Never Failing to Fail
by ItsLukasBondevik
Summary: [MattxOC, MelloxOC][Neither of us ever really understood what we saw in those two... except when we realized that they were so much stronger than we would ever be.] [R&R Please]
1. French Maid

**Title**: Nevermore

**Author**: Hitachiin Hikaru

**Fandom**: Death Note

**Rating**: "T" for language and death

**Genre**: Tragedy/Romance

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any part of Death Note, including characters, cities, towns, scenarios, titles, or anything else about it you can think of. I just want to express my creative intent with this fic.

**Summary**: I never really understood what I saw in a guy like that… except when I realized that he was stronger then I would ever be.Living in the past doesn't let you make way for your future. But… I really didn't want a future if he wasn't included in itMattxOC, MelloxOC R&R Please

**A/N**: This story might get slightly confusing, because each chapter switches back and forth between each OC pairing here. The first chapter is Matt and Byzantine, the second is Mello and Aero, etc. However, Mello, Matt, Near, and L will make a couple appearances in opposing chapters to help move the story along.

Chapter 1: French Maid

I have always had a fear of planes, always afraid that they will fail and that I will die on it. My fear only grew more when my parents' plane crashed on a trip from France to Germany, leaving me orphan. However, for some reason on this plane, on my flight from my hometown of Marseilles, France to a place called Winchester, England, I felt completely safe. Perhaps it was because it was a nice big plane, with sofas and easy chairs, obviously very expensive. Maybe it was the two other children riding along with me, a male with blond hair from Germany that kept watching out the windows and munching on a chocolate bar and a female from America with midnight black hair that was reading quietly in the corner.

But I suspected the reason to be the black haired man sitting so strangely beside me, talking quietly with an elderly man I knew as Roger. I didn't know who he was, but every time the jet jarred and I cried out, he allowed me to squeeze his hand until I am sure it hurt and bury my head in his side in fright. I was only about nine-years-old, a small child and very knowing in the ways of the world. My mother and father had given me a very intricate education, wanting me to be a well-rounded, intelligent woman when I grew up. Education and money was all I received from my parents after they died when I turned six, the plane crash the very epitome of my worst nightmares. Their love had all but ceased the moment they left this world, and despite the money I had I was much too young at my age to be able to actually use it. So off I was sent to an orphanage to live until I turned eighteen and was allowed to have my money.

The years spent in the French orphanage were not pleasant, as I wish I could say. The conditions in lower Marseilles was less than what I was used to, and the other girls were uncultured and uneducated. However, I was determined to get out of Laura Fry's Orphanage for Girls, because I knew that I was destined for bigger and better places. My caregivers were kind at first, giving me the education I hankered for, however they grew cold when I tended to correct them. I was smart, and I knew it, and I was egotistical enough at my young age to want everyone else to know it too. I had to read in the dead of night the textbooks I snagged from the tiny library, reading them until my eyes hurt. Eventually, however, my grades soon became astonishing, perfect four-point-ohs in every single subject I put my mind to. I could play the flute with the best of the teachers, thanks to the lessons Mother gave me before she died, and I had a reading class where I taught some of the less fortunate girls to read.

My English was sloppy, but I was learning to the best of my ability. There are a lot of strange words in that language, and it is very difficult, but I could do it if I tried, I knew. One day, however, my world was flipped upside down before my very eyes when those two men came to take me away from the orphanage. One of them was the old man who introduced himself to me as Roger, and the other was the younger man who didn't introduce himself to me. I chuckled at the strange foreign name and asked the nameless man in my broken English, "You adopt me, Monsieur?"

He smiled, a strange smile underneath those wide panda-bear eyes, "We are taking you to a place for intelligent children, Bethany." I blinked for a moment, deciphering the sentence with my limited knowledge of the language. I nodded slowly after I was done and returned the favor. That was my very first contact with the world famous detective known as L, however, I did not know it was L otherwise I might have died. I have read so many of his cases in the newspapers, and he was someone I have always, in my wildest dreams of course, wanted to meet. He seemed like such a genius, the way he pulled off so many of these cases, and I made him my hero.

As I rode on the plane, it would be the turning point in my life, where I stopped being Bethany DuMont, and became Byzantine. Bethany, the little girl who grew up in France with Mother and Father… was no more.

The plane landed in Winchester swiftly and almost unerringly, and I stood up with my backpack as my only luggage. The rest of my things were in my home in France, I only brought things that I needed badly, like some of my clothes and a toothbrush, some hairbrushes and books, and a doll that I have had since I was born. Her name was Isabelle, and I loved her very much. The black haired man left me and the other two children with Roger and he walked to show us to our rooms. Glancing to the blond, I asked him, "You like chocolate lots, huh?"

He cocked an eyebrow at me, the chocolate bar hanging from his mouth as his hands rested in his pockets for a moment. "A little," he replied sarcastically, and I winced, looking away. The onyx haired girl gave him an angry look and patted my back kindly. We smiled at each other and Roger stopped by the first room, motioning to the blond.

"Mello, this is your room," he told him, and he walked in. There was another young boy inside, wearing white pajamas and had white hair, sitting on his bed and doing a puzzle. Myself and the other little girl glanced in for a moment before Roger shut the door, leaving Mello and the other boy inside. He led us across the grounds to a completely different dormitory, which was obviously a girl's dorm. We stopped before the very first room and the black haired girl entered. "Aero, this is your room. Linda will be your roommate." She nodded and waved goodbye to me, and the door shut. I clutched Isabelle to my chest tightly, worried about who my roommate would be, hoping she would be very nice to me, and that we would get along very well.

I saw a couple of the younger boys running towards us, a crimson haired one with a bag full of cookies in his hands, a two other boys that were laughing, as if they had just performed a great feat. The red-haired boy wasn't watching where he was going, and ran headlong into me, making Isabelle fly from my hands and knocking me on my back with him sprawled out next to me. "Matt!" Roger scolded him, but he was too fast on his way in a minute with his friends close behind.

I sat up and rubbed my head, reaching behind me for my doll. I blinked when I didn't feel it, and glanced back only to see it wasn't there anymore. "Where are you, Isabelle?" I cried in French, dropping my bag and running after the boys. _That Matt probably took it_, I though furiously, _he obviously took those cookies, too! _I turned the corner and saw him and his friends standing there, eating the spoils of their crime, Isabelle sitting next to Matt's feet. Angrily, I strode up to him and punched him in the back of his head, picking up my doll furious. "You are a foul, rude, and completely uneducated individual," I spat in my native tongue, stalking away angrily.

He didn't reply as I turned the corner, walking back to Roger with tears in my eyes. I always cried when I got angry, and now was no different. He opened the door to the room I was in, and I saw that I didn't have a roommate at all, and turned to the man. The room was enormous, though, with two beds, however the side of the room where my roommate would have been had nothing there. "This is your room Byzantine." I walked in, confused, and put my things down. It didn't look like anyone had been there for quite awhile, and I sighed. I would have to do some cleaning when my things were put away. It was rather dusty in here. When Roger left I did not close the door so my asthma would not act up when the dust began to fly around the room. Taking a handkerchief out of my pocket and began to wipe at different things until a voice caught my attention.

"Hey." I glanced behind me and saw that Matt child again, scratching the back of his head as he stood in my doorway, a game system in his hands. I put my cloth down and gave him a very sour look, not wanting him for one moment to think that I was not angry. "Sorry about your doll. I didn't know you'd get so mad about it…" He looked kind of strange, like I might not understand what he was saying. However, I basically got the gist of his statement, giving him a small smile. After all I did yell at him in French, so he would most likely think that I didn't know any English.

I replied, trying very hard to get this right, "It okay, Matt. No harm." He looked relieved, and that is how I met him. I did not become very good friends with him, however I talked to him a lot because he seemed like a very nice person to know. He was not all that bad…

**…:oOo:… **

Four years passed since that day, and I became very good friends with a Linda and Aero, and acquaintanced myself with two very smart boys named Near and Mello, and Matt was kind of a friend. However, Linda and Aero were the ones I always sat with at lunch, leaving Mello to sit with Matt and Near to sit alone, which I did not understand why he did. My experiences with Matt were usually short, however one situation stands out in my mind particularly, because that's when I vowed that I would never be his friend in a million years.

One day, I realized that my room was getting rather dusty, like I had when I first came here, and decided to dust once more. I propped the door open to keep my asthma from acting up, and began to dust again. I suppose Matt saw my door open again, like he had when we were small, and then saw I was cleaning, and came in. I thought perhaps he was going to help, however he took the cloth away from me and shook his head.

Puberty had affected him, certainly. His voice was slightly deeper and squeaked when he got excited, and he was very tall for a thirteen-year-old boy. I found myself rather physically attracted to him, because I could not deny that he was very good looking. I blushed a lot when I saw him, Mello, and Near perhaps because I was growing up too, and I found myself giggling with Linda about how cute the three of them were, and some others in Wammy's House as well. "What's up Matt?" I asked, my English leagues better than what it used to be.

"If you're French, you need to wear the right uniform," he told me, and I missed mischief in his eyes, feeling confused. I suppose I didn't understand English culture very well, and there was a type of uniform French girls were supposed to wear when they cleaned in England? I allowed him to pull me outside to his room where he had a black and white uniform with my name on it in his closet. I carried it back into my room, putting it on in confusion when he left. It was very skimpy, with a tiny, lacy skirt and tall black tight-like socks complete with a black and white hat and white apron.

I questioned of him, "Are you sure this is the correct uniform?" He nodded and I shrugged turning back to clean. I heard a light click every few moments, but when I turned around it was just Matt playing his video game. Soon my room was done and I closed the door as I changed back into my normal clothes, hanging the outfit up in my own closet. But now I was curious, and I turned the computer on in my bedroom and hopped onto Google. Typing French Maid in the search bar, I was met with horrific photos of slutty women in the same outfit I had been wearing, and flushed red. That stupid Matt had done something bad to me again! I pulled the outfit out of my closet and stormed to where I saw a large group of boys huddled, knowing that the gamer had something to do with this.

"Matt!" I growled, and the boys saw me, hooting and jeering at me rudely. I pushed and shoved my way into the center of the circle where I saw Matt and Mello handing out pictures and obtaining money. I took all of the photos from their hands and pushed them in my bag, knocking through all of the boys until I was sure I had gotten every single one of them. "I can't believe you," I told him, tears dripping down my face as I zipped up my bag angrily. "I thought you were my friend…"

I turned on heel after I threw the disgusting costume at the jerk, wiping my face off angrily as I headed back to my room to sulk for a while. At least it was Saturday, and I wouldn't have to worry about classes or anything…

That was the last time I talked with Matt for quite a long time, almost three months, because I just could not stand being around him anymore. In fact, I devoted every moment of my attention to eating, breathing, and studying to be just like L, whom was my hero and I wanted to be like anyway. Linda and Aero stopped trying to talk with me, and I ate alone like Near, but not for the same reasons I felt he didn't eat with everyone. He didn't eat with anyone because he didn't like interacting with people, but I didn't eat with anyone because they wouldn't stop teasing me about the whole incident. It turned out I didn't get all of the photos, and some of them had leaked. It was embarrassing, and sometimes I didn't even leave my room except to go to classes so they wouldn't make fun of me anymore.

I prayed that something bad would happen to Matt because of all the torment he put me through. He would deserve everything he got.


	2. Second Best

Chapter 2: Second Best

I sighed as I turned the page in my book, getting annoyed every time the girl across from me let out a cry, and I wondered what my new home would be like. I didn't know what the big deal with planes was, they didn't seem scary to me at all. But I bet it was because I changed hospitals so much as a kid. I had a mild case of stomach bleeding for a while, and luckily stupid kids like me with no cash and no parents could get awesome treatment for no cost. I dunno what happened to my folks, but I remember hearing my caretaker at the hospital telling my aunt, spelling a huge word I didn't know: _S-U-I-C-I-D-E_. I was a little too young to get the meaning of that word, and a little too young to understand that my mom died in childbirth and my dad decided to perform that "S" word.

I know all of that stuff now, but I'm not going to start sobbing over it anytime soon. Does it sound kind of cold to you? Maybe it is. But how can I really miss someone I never even knew? I grew up with my aunt, but thanks to that damn illness I lived in hospitals a whole hell of a lot more than I lived at home. Well, while I was in John Hopkin's in Maryland, some old guy that I've never seen before visited me. I was around ten, and almost completely better of my stupid illness. The man came to tell me some of the worst news ever: my aunt died, killed in a car crash on the way coming to see me. That fact truly did hurt me, because I lived with her almost all of my life. But the man, Roger, told me that I was such a smart-ass, or was it a smarty-pants? Well, whatever the case, I had a home with him at his place for smart kids called Wammy's House. I agreed, because anything would be better than going to a normal orphanage, and plus I'd be around kids who weren't total dumb asses like the kids I used to go to school with.

That day I checked out and left with Roger in a wheelchair, heading for the BWI airport to go to some town in France, and then on to England. I was met with a shock when we picked up a young boy from a hotel room, a slightly angry looking blond munching on a bar of chocolate. We met eyes for a moment and I found myself flushing for the first time, and glancing away. The ride from America to France was long and boring, so I read a few Stephen King books the entire time, sitting next to the boy named Mello for the entire flight. He talked a little to me, but spent most of his time staring out the window at the passing scenery (which I didn't know what was so interesting), and crunching on that damned chocolate bar little by little as if he'd never see another one again.

We arrived in France and Roger made me and Mello stay in a small hotel room, waiting for him to get the last kid before we could fly across the English Channel and finally get this annoyingly long trip over. However jet leg was getting to me, and as I sat besides the darkly dressed blond I glanced to him with tired eyes. "Mello?" I questioned softly, trying not to fall asleep before I got an answer to my question. I glanced up to him as he looked down at me, blinking slowly. "Can I rest my head on your shoulder? I'm fucking tired." He stayed silent for a moment and then nodded to me, and so I did, finally falling asleep beside him on the love seat. I suppose my language might have surprised some people, but I only talked like that because my aunt and her boyfriend talked like that, not in a loud, mean way, but in a habitual way. So I merely picked it up from them, and was never punished for saying such words. I've used bad language all my life only because I never **knew** that they were bad. I usually come off as crass to a majority of people, but that's just who I was.

When I next woke up, I found that he had fallen asleep as well, the two of us curled up on the couch. It was so comfortable that I didn't want to move and disturb him, so I lay there and listened to his heart beat against my ear, snuggling closer. He was so warm and thin, and small and fragile like myself, like most humans. The two of us were only ten years old, yet I felt a strange connection with Mello, like I had been waiting for so long to have someone like him in my life. I didn't realize that I had fallen back asleep until Roger woke us both up, a small brown haired girl in tow. She was lightly drumming on her legs, a weird sign of nervousness, as she watched me and Mello pull ourselves together and get up to leave with them.

Strangely, a black-haired man with horrible posture accompanied us, speaking with Roger for a while. He looked quite young, maybe around seventeen and looks like he needs a little less getting laid and a little more sleep. But, I also noticed that he had such an intelligent glint in his eyes that all his faults just completely flew by the wayside for me. He seemed kind enough, if not kind of distant and aloof, but it was all right. The next plane we all went on was a very expensive jet thing, definitely made for class and comfort. By nature (and if you tell anyone I kick your ass) I tend to get afraid of big places, probably because I've been cooped up inside a hospital room for most of my life. I stuck by Mello as we walked through the airport, my hand in his so I was sure not to get lost. If he minded he didn't really show it, just let me do whatever as we walked around the port. The other girl hung with Mr. Roger and the unnamed guy, looking around curiously in a way I couldn't muster up the courage to do. "Are you scared?" Mello questioned as we boarded, sitting down besides me.

"Actually," I admitted, finding his heavy German rather appealing. "I'm not really fond of big places like this."

He shrugged. "Can't see why. Big places let you out more. Little places hold you in." I tilted my head at his philosophy and nodded. For him that might be the case, however I am a small person so little places are basically ideal for me. Mello turned to look out the window as I examined my book, my heart beginning to pound because he still hadn't let go of my hand yet. The blond also had the genius sparkle in his deep blue eyes, a smarty-pants like Mr. Black-Haired Weirdo and me, and probably the little brown haired girl too. Roger said it was a place for extremely bright children, so I supposed they would all be smart there.

It only took a few hours to land in Winchester and a short, half-hour drive to Wammy's House. I was really excited because I knew I would have a huge library, lots of kids that were smart like me, and I could see Mello often, for reasons I really don't care to tell you. Ha. But when I arrived, I was met with the news that my class difficulty level would be one below Mello's, so I would have to work hard to prove that I could do the harder work. I wanted to be in the same classes as him so I could hang out with him… if he didn't think I was a complete loser.

I worked my ass off for the first few months, doing everything I could to show that I was smart and hard-working enough to me in the top-roster classes just like Mello, Byzantine, and the child-genius Near. I studied late into the night constantly, any grade below a 95 completely unacceptable to myself. I lost a lot of weight through these months (I had noticed that most of the kids were toothpicks; now I know why) because I skipped meals to finish my work. Occasionally I'd stop for an hour or two to go play soccer… er, football as they call it here, but otherwise my mind was completely set on catching Mello.

"Hey." I heard a voice in my ear as I awoke groggily, not recalling ever falling asleep. But my textbook was so comfortable a pillow that I didn't want to move from my spot in the table. The little prick that woke me up could go screw himself for all I cared. "Wake up, Aero." I turned to glare tiredly at the kid and scare him away, however I wasn't expecting Mello to turn up in my line of sight just then. I met his blue eyes for a moment, my brain still half asleep, and I blinked stupidly before sitting up and stretching my arms above my head.

I watched Mello sleepily for a second before asking, "Why're you here?" He sat down next to me, chocolate bar crinkling in hand his other hand, and glanced to me warily.

"Working, like you," he responded with a resounding snap of his confection, as if saying the conversation was closed. I, however, am a nosy American bitch, and the conversation wasn't over until I fucking said it was over. I sat up properly in my seat and tugged at the hem of my pajama shirt, giving him a resolute stare; I was not done talking yet Mello.

I questioned smoothly, getting his previously enraptured attention, "Are the higher level classes difficult? I'm trying to get up there myself, so I'm curious…" I stopped myself short at his cold gaze, obviously wanting me to shut the hell up, now. At that moment, I don't think I've ever seen such a frightening expression on someone's face before then, when I saw it on ten-year-old Mello's and it scared me. Though I wasn't going to show I was cared, just give him a withering, irritated look and turned back to my own work. I guess I fell asleep again, because next time I woke up I was in my own bed, Linda snoring across the room. I sat up lightning quick, trying to discern how I got there. The only thing my eyes could observe, however, was a half eaten chocolate bar resting on the nightstand beside my bed, as if someone forgot to pick it back up after they put me to bed.

**…:oOo:…**

It took almost a year, but I finally made it to the top classes with Mello, happy that all of my hard work paid off. The chick I bumped down was pissed, but it was her own damn fault for not working hard enough. It was cool, and I got to sit next to him in our forensics class; it was kick-ass. However, I noticed that despite how intelligent Mello was, Near always seemed to be one step ahead on everything.

I watched as Mello received his essay back, curious as to what his score was. "Mello?" I questioned timidly, looking over his shoulder at the mark he received. _99 percent…_ "Wow that's amazing," I told him, my fist clenching over my mere 94 percent, and I felt a wave of awe wash over me at the sight of the marks. "That's great Mello, you're so smart!" I cheered and he shot me a smug smile, making me sit back down in case my legs melted like butter, the usual reaction whenever I saw his face. It was embarrassing really. But my exclamation caught the attention of some others, and they glanced over at Mello's paper as well. He obviously liked the attention, and I smiled at him. He really deserved it, but how did…

"Wow, Near!" I heard someone exclaim and Mello glared over the desks to the white haired boy, making me wince just from the power of his anger. Once again I was fucking terrified. "100 percent! You're a genius!" All of Mello's attention spirited away to Near, except me of course, and the blond let out a frustrated sigh, tearing his test into little pieces, tossing it out on his way from the classroom. Biting my lip, I jumped up and followed him as well, making sure the teacher's attention was on Near, and not everyone else. As I walked out, I stepped on something hard and blinked, glancing down to see a rosary with red beads and a silver charm, Jesus engraved onto the crucifix. _Whose…?_ I wondered curiously, glancing around the hallway for someone. _Is it Mello's?_

I smiled. Yeah, he just left, so he probably dropped it on his way out of the room. Perhaps I'd be in his good graces if I found it and gave it to him. I stashed it into my pocket and glanced around the halls, trying to determine where he might have gone hiding, or sulking, whatever he was so inclined to do. I passed by a few of the other students, questioning if they had seen Mello anywhere around. One of them, I think his name was Matt, told me, "Yeah, I saw him outside by the swing set, throwing rocks across the field. I think he's pissed about something." I thanked him and scooted outside, glancing in the direction of the recreational area. Sure enough Matt was right, and Mello stood there, hurling rocks at the tree down a ways from where he stood.

Watching him for a moment, I cautiously called out, "Mello?" He stopped mid-throw and turned to glance at me, still looking severely ticked about the Near incident. His blond hair was swept into his eyes, and I had to take a deep breath to not melt at the sight of his cute face. I was such a loser, I know, for letting something as ridiculous as a **boy** make me feel so strange about everything, however I wasn't concerned about such a trite matter at the moment. I was more concerned about making Mello feel better.

"What the hell do you want, Aero?" he responded in annoyance, finishing his previously interrupted throw of the stone and knocked a few thin branches off one of the trees. I gulped and walked up to him, my hands wrapped around the necklace I found on the ground of the orphanage. I was feeling like crap, because this is definitely not how I normally acted. That goddamn Mello should've stayed in Germany where I could've never found him.

Stuttering slightly, and cursing internally at myself for it, I told him, "I-I found something o-of yours…" I held out the rosary to him with both hands, my nervousness getting the better of me as I stared at the ground, my lip feeling sore from all of the abuse it was getting from my teeth. He watched me for a moment, his expression still displeased. We stood in silence for a moment before he snatched the rosary from my hands, shoving it into his pocket and not even bothering to say thank you. I stood before the ungrateful bastard for a moment, my eleven-year-old brown eyes glaring into his midnight blue ones. He merely stared back, still chewing on his candy bar, his opposing hand in his black jeans pocket. Finally at the end of my rope I spat, "You're fucking welcome," and turned on heel to leave.

I heard him chuckle and I grimaced back at him only to see his amused expression, looking even more so with the brown bar hanging between his coral colored lips. I cocked an eyebrow as he replied, "Thanks Aero. Do you want a plaque to commemorate your great deed, too?" Angry I stormed away again, but the image of his smirking face cooling my temper, just a little. I was tough as nails; I've kicked Matt's scrawny, thieving ass almost on a daily basis, I've glared Linda down once or twice, and I even dared to try to out argue Near (and ended up losing, but that's **way** beside the point.) But when I caught wind of Mello; those mile long thin legs, that handsomely feminine face, the terror he could instill in the masses of children, I found that my own legs wobbled and my façade gently faded away. And it pissed me the hell off. No one should be able to do this to me, especially not a rude prick like Mello. Sure I wanted to be in the same classes as him and I wanted to hang with him, however my reasons were strictly because he was the first "kind of" friend I made. But now I wasn't sure if I wanted it to only be that much any more.

Mello… He had gotten darker, that was for sure, in the last few months he'd been here, though I accredited most of that to Near's uncanny ability to be a point or two ahead of the game. In the race to succeed L, there would be but one winner, and a whole lot of losers. Near and Mello were both there, inches from the finish line, and I was terribly eager to see how such a race would turn out. See, to tell the truth, I didn't want to be L. I wanted to be (now, don't laugh) a dermatologist. It seemed like a cool job, and I could just bustle off to college when I turned fifteen and left Wammy's House. I was tenth in line for his name, nothing to brag about with Near, Mello, Matt and Byzantine in first through fourth, respectively. They could brag all they wanted, and it wouldn't make a difference. They were amazingly smart and I wasn't. That's just how the world was. And I didn't give a rat's ass how I ended up in the rosters. As long as I was in the top fifty, and could stick with Mello.

**A/N**: I tried to make each of their personalities unwaveringly different. If you have an comments or tips to help Byzantine and Aero develop more I would really appreciate the advice. Thanks for reading!


	3. Near Fatal Affection

Chapter 3: Near-fatal Affection

Somehow I managed to survive the next few months without completely losing my mind, keeping an eye on Matt, but in turn ignoring him for the life of me. However the embarrassment seemed to have died down by then, because no one made any reference as I gradually came out of my seemingly perpetual prison. I exited my room to the beckon of Aero and Linda, wanting me to watch the news with them about a case where criminals were dying of heart attacks all over the world. "This case is hella weird, but L can totally solve it," Aero told me excitedly one day, when the man we all loved called out Kira like nobody's business. We all cheered when we heard the garbled tone of his voice, knowing that he would win, like always. "He's got fucking guts!"

Matt, Mello, and Near had also been viewing the news with us at that time, Near situated a little bit farther away from the rest of us, as is his habit. I was so excited that I couldn't hold it in; I walked up to Matt and hugged him tight, all of us cheering. I planted a kiss on his cheek and then blushed, moving away, giving him a warm smile. I couldn't hold a grudge for very long, the three months that I had was an all time record for me, to say the least. "It's so great, isn't it Matt?" I questioned of him, holding his hands in my own as I stood before him.

"Yeah, L is really giving Kira a run for his money," he agreed, looking subtly around for Mello, however the blond didn't seem to be anywhere in sight as of yet. Where he went I didn't know, but when Matt saw he wasn't there he glanced to me with a cordial smile. "So, you're not pissed anymore right?" I sighed and nodded, taking my hands away and putting them in my pockets, noting his relieved grin with curiosity. Why on earth would he be relieved? I sighed and watched him walk away, catching up to Mello as he walked out of the room, magically appearing out of thin air. _Perhaps he isn't such a bad guy after all…_

…**:oOo:…**

"No girl can resist me," Matt commented to Mello, wearing his thumbs out on his game system. "I think I've made out with every girl in this place. I've gotta be the best kisser in the whole damn world." I heard this and glanced up at him, frowning in annoyance from my work.

_Or, perhaps I'm wrong._

Mello didn't look very interested as he lay on his back in the grass beside his friend, clutching the rosary around his neck for some reason. He seemed to be thinking about something important, hardly paying attention to the redhead. I snorted and shook my head, annoyed by both his claim and his foul language. I turned my attention back to my books, hardly engrossed in his ridiculous boasts. The noise made him glance curiously in my direction, and the game boy emitted a loud noise, indicating that he lost. Handing the electronic to Mello, who put it in his coat because it began to rain, he stood up and gave the blond a smirk. I quickly put my books in my bag so they wouldn't get wet, stowing the black backpack under the table just in case. I sighed and kicked brick wall the table I was sitting at was next to. This was annoying, the bloody weatherman said it was going to be cloudy today, but not rain. But with my luck it had to rain, didn't it?

As I sat there with my hood up, I thought about Matt's silly brag, and sighed, resting my elbow on the table and my cheek in my hand, closing my eyes. _I'll believe that when I experience it_, I thought with a slightly smug tone in my mental voice. _Which isn't going to happen. Matt is such a loser._ I recalled the "French Maid" incident, and the different things he did to me when I first came here as a naïve little girl, falling for everything that stupid kid said to me. I would never forgive that guy for the humiliation he put me through those months ago, and I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that I was mulling over it. I knew how guys like that operated. He'd do something to a girl so she'd think about him all the time, and then catch her off guard and make her do whatever he wants. It annoyed me to no end!

I suddenly felt someone clutching my shoulders and pressing me against the rain soaked wall, my body shivering in the cold weather and my hood falling from my head, getting my hair soaked. "Whoa, what are you doing Matt?" I questioned in surprise, trying to wipe the water from my face; I could really get sick from this stupid weather. Feeling dim-witted, I realized I just fell prey to his tactics, as he had caught me off guard, but I'd never do whatever he… He pressed his lips to mine in a painfully aggressive manner, making my jaw drop in shock, and he took this as an invitation. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and I couldn't think, wrapping my arms around his neck, returning the emotions for this surprisingly breathtaking kiss. It felt so warm, despite being so cold outside, and it tasted so wonderful, something I've never experienced in my short, fourteen-year-old life.

He wasn't kidding when he said he had to be the best kisser, and I didn't doubt that claim any longer. However, why was I kissing him? I told myself I wouldn't fall victim to his ridiculous tactics, but somehow, it turned out that way. I hated him so much, but are you supposed to be doing this with the one you hated? And I couldn't break free of his touch, his lips against mine, and his tongue touching my tongue. It just seemed so right, and felt so good! I've never kissed anyone before, much less like this, and I finally found out what I've been missing out on. His tongue explored every part of my mouth, lightly brushing everything before going back to tangle with mine. It was almost crippling, the sheer magnitude of the emotion I felt right now, and he gripped me harder as I pushed my own tongue into his mouth, wanting to discover what was there myself.

My breath caught in my throat, and I could feel my head get light, but I didn't want to stop. His hands tangled in my brown hair, and mine in his red. I couldn't think straight, I couldn't think about the consequences of my actions and how I would feel about submitting to this, allowing this ignorant, rude boy get the upper hand on me. I have always be a slightly defensive person, and that trait just expanded after the "photo shoot," but I felt every wall I put up collapse around my ears just because this guy kissed me. My brain wouldn't listen to me, wouldn't let me tear myself away from this contact, as much as I wished to. It was listening to my truest desires rather than my hateful façade, and I couldn't stop.

However, something strange was happening to me, as my vision started to blur heavily. The session went on for a little over a minute, but I pulled away because I couldn't breathe, I had to pull away even though I didn't want to. Even after my mouth was free the breaths still wouldn't come, and I collapsed to my knees, feeling like I was going to die due to suffocation. _I can't breathe, I can't breathe!_ I tried to scream, but my voice wouldn't form, my body wouldn't work, my asthma agitated to an extreme degree right about now. The stress, holding my breath for so long by kissing Matt, everything was just getting to my system, and activating something I never wanted to go through. An asthma attack.

I felt mud against my face as I finally fell all the way to the ground, trying desperately to allow oxygen into my lungs, but the necessity of life unable to get through. "Byzantine?" Matt questioned in shock, hoisting me up to look at my face, worry all over his own. He was blurry and I felt my eyes close, my hearing fading as his began to call for Mello's help…

…**:oOo:…**

I woke up gradually, the first thing I noticed being something weird strapped to my face. The next thing I noticed was that my arms were sore for some reason, and I heard an annoying beeping noise by my head. I tried to recall what had happened before I fell asleep, but the effort made the pain in my head explode and I fought back tears. I remembered, Matt… _Matt; what was he doing? _I thought hard about it for a moment, and remembered the ecstasy I felt for something going on, something strange that I never experienced before…

A kiss.

_Matt… Matt kissed me, that's right… but why would that cause me to be hospitalized? _I tried to figure out what the thing on my face was, and I remembered… I couldn't breathe; I fainted. Then it struck me, and I heard the monitor beep in warning as my heart almost stopped: I had an asthma attack. I gulped and felt more tears sting at my eyelids. Matt nearly killed me by performing a feat of love (well, usually it's for love, but this was for proving me wrong)! A couple more seconds of that amazing first kiss and I might as well have died from it. _That's a depressing thought to have_, I comprehended, knowing that I should be glad to be alive at all.

"Oi, doc, why's this machine beeping all annoyingly?" I heard a voice say in worry; obviously watching the lines pass by on the heart monitor. I opened my eyes to see the face of my would-be killer, his attention drawn to the opposite side of the room to where I supposed the doctor to be. The man made some sort of reply, but I didn't hear it while watching Matt's sunglass-less face with my slightly awake blue eyes. He sighed and glanced down at me, our eyes meeting momentarily before he ran a hand through his hair. "Uh, hello Byzantine," he greeted me nervously; chewing on the end of an unlit cigarette he pulled out after the doctor left the room. I blinked for a moment, my breaths shallow, and I grasped that I couldn't speak. I needed all the air I could get just for staying alive right now. The tears I tried to dam back with my eyelids fell now, and that startled the kleptomaniac for a moment, watching my crying face for a moment before turning away to look at something else._ I bet those stupid cigarettes were stolen, too_, I thought good-naturedly, everything seeming funny to me now.

I was so happy to be alive, to see Matt, just to be here, that I couldn't contain myself. I just had to let it out somehow, and since talking was out of the question, I guess crying was the next option my brain picked to relieve all of its tension and happiness. I reached out shakily, slowly, and rested my own hand on Matt's very lightly, not having the strength to do much else, like hold it or lace our fingers together. I don't know why, and I certainly don't know how it came about so suddenly, but I felt a strange fondness for this other side of Matt; the nervous, worried, upset side that no one has ever seen before.

Normally he was laid back and uncaring, a bored expression on his face no matter what the situation is. Even when he was flirting with a girl or hanging out with Mello, he never seemed to get excited about anything. But right now, it seemed, he was kind of ranging on the emotional side, though it would probably revert back to normal once I was out of the infirmary. That's how these things usually worked. "M-Matt," I managed to croak out, and he turned to look at me, taking my hand in his. I took a few more shallow breaths as I worked on completing this sentence. "I'm… not…" a few more miniscule inhales, "mad…"

"What?" he asked blankly, looking confused. "Why the hell aren't you mad? I almost killed you." The sentences came out matter-of-factly, not much nuance placed on anything and no emotion emphasizing any of his words. He chewed on the cigarette some more, obviously using it as a stress reliever. I didn't have the strength to say much of anything else, so I just smiled at him, which puzzled him more. I wasn't overly concerned with his puzzlement, just him knowing that I wasn't angry with him. He couldn't possibly have known that I had asthma, and I should have been more careful with what I was doing and not have instigated him in the first place. It was my fault, all the way. Even as a thirteen-year-old I knew that I should be more careful with my asthma, but I had never been concerned with it because I never had any issues with it, like an attack. But now, I suppose, I would have to watch what I do…

Matt rolled his eyes and shook his head, not even curious anymore. But his hand didn't let mine go, which was comforting, and before he left to get to his room and bed (I found out that I was in Wammy's infirmary), he kissed my cheek good-bye. I flushed when he closed the door, wondering if he was just being nice, or if he actually felt something there. Because I knew, before I fell asleep that night that I felt something strongly for Matt, something that I couldn't explain why it was there. I had three good reasons why I shouldn't like him: he kissed me when I didn't want to be kissed, he triggered a severe asthma attack, and he didn't seem apologetic at all, simply worried that I'd kill him when I got better.

And yet, and yet… I still could feel my heart beat at the memory of that passionate kiss we shared, something I would never forget. Something I didn't **want** to forget. _Stupid kleptomaniac_, I cursed him gently, resentment and grudges not my forte at all. _Stole my first kiss._

…**:oOo:…**

It took a couple of weeks and an inhaler for me to be properly back on my feet again, however I was still having some trouble breathing if I walked too far or stood up for too long. Fortunately I didn't have another attack, thank goodness, because not being able to breathe was frightening, feeling like I was going to die. And my anger towards Matt seemed to have dissipated, because I was cordial with him whenever I saw him. I had plenty of wonderful reasons to hate his guts until the end of time, but I wasn't going to. Hating him for about a week was the best I could manage after all of that, and now I felt closer to him than ever before. Despite almost killing me, Mello told me that he also rushed me to the infirmary the moment I collapsed, which also meant he truly saved my life.

And I was grateful.

I yawned as I sat before my books in Physics class, trying to pay attention to my teacher. I was dead tired, but I had to get this stuff down before the next test else I would fail. But everyone's attention was drawn from the teacher when Linda walked in late, and stayed away when Aero walked in dressed like a prostitute, much to my shock. When I had known her she was so modest, a tomboy, and usually wore jeans and a baggy tee shirt. But now, this… it was so unlike her that I couldn't help but stare as Linda sat beside me. "Linda," I questioned of her, keeping my voice low. "Why's she dressed like that?"

The girl giggled and replied, "To impress Mello. She's totally got a thing for him, and now that you and Matt are dating, she's jealous." Near glanced over at us and then to Aero, getting the idea and turning directly back to his worked, obviously uninterested in any of it. Social outcast to his last breath, I suppose.

I made a disgusted face. "I'm not dating Matt," I insisted, shaking my head in confusion. For some reason, my ears completely tuned in on Matt's voice when he began to speak, and I heard him flirting with her. I glanced over in horror with my very own brand of jealousy, angry that he would do such a thing. Aero saw my expression for a split second before turning back in nervousness. However, Miss Nancy calling her spared me the pain of the obvious answer and I sighed, grateful that she came in at just the right moment. _I can't believe Matt asked her and not… whoa… hold up there, girl!_ I scolded myself, internally grimacing. I don't want to go on a single date with Matt, ever! What was I thinking?

But for the rest of the period I couldn't get my mind off of him, trying my hardest to be studious. Unfortunately, my mind simply breathed Matt for the rest of the class, much to my dismay. When we were dismissed I strode right by him in annoyance, making him slightly surprised that I didn't say hi to him. To get my mind away from the entire subject, I sat down at my desk and did homework due over the next three days for the next seven hours, and I ended up falling asleep at my desk. Still I couldn't help myself, really.

I didn't trust him, I didn't like him. I couldn't stand the thought of being around him for more than five minutes at a time. But I felt this strange, overwhelming desire for him, neither for his body nor for his company, just for his essence, if that makes any logical amount of sense. Like when a child isn't permitted to eat the freshly baked cookies, so they just smell them until they can. Except for the fact that I didn't want Matt as a tangible thing in my hands, just his smell in my head. It's such a strange notion that I didn't know what to do about it. I thought about asking Mello, but he might laugh at me and tell Matt, or discussing it with Aero and Linda, but they might get freaked out that it was Matt in general, or not understand it properly. Near was an option, however he didn't seem to have enough emotion in him to be attracted to anyone in the whole world, so perhaps his council wouldn't be backed up by experience.

So I bottled it inside of me, hoping it would go away.


End file.
